Reviews

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"Some four years ago, I reviewed Matthew Baker’s first book, My Appalachian Granny, a delightful collection of anecdotes, photographs and provocative history. Much of the book dealt with Baker’s friendship with Evelyn Howell Beck, whose life reflected the qualities that the author had come to admire.

However, the book also celebrates the history of Whittier, a small community in Jackson County which has a fascinating past. In addition, Matthew recorded one of the region’s most interesting tales, concerning the disappearance of Colonel Raymond Robbins, a nationally known prohibitionist who vanished in 1932 only to be discovered in Whittier where he had become a popular citizen who was active in community activities. Robbins’ reappearance (and his story of amnesia) attracted national attention to Whittier, a peaceful but thriving community where Robbins later noted, he “had been briefly happy.”

In My Mountain Heroes, Baker continues to have an unabated appreciation of “all things Appalachian.” As Matthew lists the aspects of his neighbors which deserve to be honored as admirable and heroic, it is not surprising that the majority are people. There are doctors who have devoted their lives to serving Macon County (Fouts, Rogers, Horsely, Lyle, Winstead and Fishers) — all telling stories of “practicing medicine” without tools, medicine or recompense. Matthew catalogues the “folk medicine remedies” that were often combined with pharmaceuticals. Kerosene, yellow root, ginseng, a poultice of fried onions or a dram of white liquor were common household remedies and doctors like Fate Welch often prescribed them along with willow bark, acknowledging their potency in the treatment of aches and pains. Many of the “old timers’ that Matthew interviewed told him grim stories of the days of milk sickness or cholera and the terrible death rates during the “Spanish Flu epidemic.”

Some of Baker’s most memorable tales pay tributes to a host of craftsmen and artists who produced items that combined practical need and beauty. Certainly that is true of the numerous quilters, carvers, and weavers. Each time that the author encounters creativity which has bloomed in unlikely place; when he finds himself listening to music that stirred his soul; when he stares in amazement at an intricately-carved, walnut clocks; complex quilting patterns that amazed visitors to the exhibits in fairs and libraries; our author wonders  “How did they do this without the advice and guidance of professionals?” The answer was always the same:  “In those days, if you wanted something done, you just figured it out,” says Charles Anders, one of Matthew’s heroes. “There was no way to pay somebody ... You read what you could and you figured out the rest.”

Perhaps Matthew’s greatest hero is not a person but a business called Maco Crafts, which began in 1969 and closed in 2002 when road construction made access to their business difficult. Maco Crafts definitely qualified as one of Baker’s heroes.

For over 30 years, this arts and crafts cooperative promoted the creation of carvings, cherry and walnut furniture, enameling, stained glass, rug braiding, quilting, weaving, pillows, baskets, toys, pottery, brooms and white oak chair bottoming. By its very existence, Maco Crafts promoted excellence in craftsmanship. It is here that Maco quilts became world-famous and individuals were invited to bring their creations to Washington and Atlanta. Although the majority of Matthew’s crafts heroes were content to remain in their homes, they were drawn out for famous exhibits and crafts fairs through the country.

For me, the greatest hero in My Mountain Heroes is the vanquished hickory (Castanea Dentata).  Certainly, this is my favorite section of Baker’s book. With admirable enthusiasm, Matthew chronicles the history of the hickory tree in Appalachia. Without a doubt, this tree had a greater affect on our culture than any other factor.

Towering up to 100 feet in height, admirably straight and the preferred material for cross-ties, telephone poles, the hickory was superior to other trees for construction and  its ability to withstand drought, flood and freezing temperatures. The hickory dominated Appalachia. The blight that killed the chestnut came in the early 1900s. Prior to that, the chestnut was a major factor in feeding livestock, especially pigs which were once allowed to range free, each with a collar that identified the owner. Matthew recounts stories of a time when the pigs grew so fat on chestnuts, their collars and bells vanished into their fat necks. Chestnuts had considerable value and families often paid for clothing and shoes with the money earned from hauling sacked chestnuts to the Farmer’s Federation.

When the blight began in 1870, it had little effect, but when it was discovered in New York City in 1903, it was traveling at a rate of 50 miles a year and its direction was south and west. It arrived in Macon County in 1930.  Within two or three years the dead trees began to fall. Although they  continued to produce tannic acid, the end had come and had an effect that is stilling evident today.

Let me assure you that I have failed to cover much of interest in My Mountain Heroes, so I can assure you that there are many surprises to be discovered in this delightful book. I was forced to omit much so that I could discuss chestnuts and Maco Crafts. I have discovered that the author is a mail man and that is an occupation that has brought him in touch with many tales and stories. My Uncle Asbury was also a mailman and never kept a garden since his customers kept him supplied with corn, tomatoes and gossip all summer. Uncle Asbury also collected wonderful stories."

- Gary Cardin

"Having been born into a North Carolina mountain family, I can attest that Matt has captured the quiet spirit of courage, neighborliness, adaptability, resilience, love of family and dependence on God. Beyond that, as a writer, I can state that My Mountain Heroes is a darn good read that will stir your heart. And, beyond that, if you want to learn how to survive when the chips are down--that shall also be your good fortune. I heartily recommend My Mountain Heroes."

- Ted C.

"As a person who loved the mountains of western North Carolina before reading this book, I highly recommend this read for WNC enthusiasts!  The historical perspectives made me feel even more connected to the mountains I love so much.  The chapter on how plants and other natural elements from the area were used for medicinal purposes back in the early 1900s was fascinating!  A must-read whether you are an Appalachian native or visiting for the first time."

- Devon D.

"Excellent read! Enjoyed the book and have recommended it to family members. Can’t wait to grab the next book to read."

- Sherry S.

"My wife and I have been reading this book every evening since we bought it.  Not only are the stories great, but the historical photos in the book really bring them to life.  We can't put it down!"

- TJ D.

"In the opening pages of My Mountain Granny, author Matthew Link Baker announces his intention of producing a book that would embody a kind of memorial to the memory of Evelyn Howell Beck, a mountain woman that he encountered in Whittier, N. C. on December 10, 1998. This meeting was the consequence of Baker’s life long desire to discover the “real Appalachia” and the character of the people who lived there. An associate had assured him that he could learn all he wished to know by talking to Evelyn Howell Beck. Over a four-year period (1998-2002) Baker would visit Evelyn some twenty times. Part of Baker’s book is based on these recorded conversations.

In actual fact, although Baker’s book is a tribute to Evelyn, it also qualifies as an homage to the town of Whittier which once had a “boom town” reputation. The narrative (which manages to be disjointed, pleasant and informative), combines Evelyn’s memories with a collection of remarkable photographs, historical sketches and a generous amount of oral history. Founded in 1885 by Clarke Whittier, a relative of the poet, John Greenleaf Whittier, this village quickly grew into a robust community that thrived on profits from timber and the commercial advantages of having a newly constructed railroad running through it.

Due to the founder’s promotion of the region as a place destined to become “the cynosure of eastern America,” investors and settlers flocked to the new town. (Robert Lee Madison, who would become the founder of Western Carolina University and his brother, Monro were among the new arrivals.) Suddenly, Whittier was filled with excitement, visionaries and hucksters (the most infamous being a fellow named James Latimore Hemrod who fleeced the town and quietly departed). For a short time, sawmills, churches, hotels and boarding houses sprang up like toad stools.

Some of the most fascinating information in My Mountain Granny concerns Whittier’s “salad days” - that brief period when the town thrived. Baker gives an entertaining account of the years when Whittier became a center of old camp meetings. Beginning in August, families camped out in and around the town, attending revivals and singings. These events, sometimes called "arbor meetings", frequently lasted for six weeks. Notable quartets performed and regional ministers preached services that cultivated in “alter calls.” Medicine shows, sponsored by major medicine companies, provided hours of entertainments (Bill Monroe and the Grand Old Opry star, Grandpappy) that were interspersed with “doctors” who gave sales pitches for elixirs that cured everything from hair loss to warts and the common cold.

According Baker, Whittier became the Little League baseball center for the region in the 1920’s - a title that the town held until the 1970’s. One of the memorable teams was the Whittier Orioles which was composed of Cherokee and white youngsters from the Whittier area.

Baker also recounts a famous “Whittier story,” which has become a part of this region’s history/folklore. It concerns Colonel Raymond Robbins, a noted public figure in the 1930’s who had become wealthy in the Gold Rush of 1898. Using his money to finance his social work, Robbins became a leading prohibitionist. When the Colonel mysteriously vanished in September, 1932, President Hoover, fearing that Robbins had been murdered by political enemies, launched an investigation. Several days later, a man calling himself Reynolds Rogers appeared in Whittier and immediately became an active citizen, attending civic meetings throughout the region, including the Cherokee tribal council. However, to everyone’s astonishment, a local youth finally recognized him from his photograph in the Grit! Rogers turned out to be the missing Colonel. Did he have amnesia, or did he simply grow weary of his stressful life? (Wilma Ashe, a young Whittier resident, befriended Robbins during his sojourn in Whittier and often told colorful stories about her conversations with him in later years). After Robbins returned to his estate in south Florida, he often told his friends about the little community that was situated in the fork of two rivers - a place where he had been happy for a short time.

Baker gives a lively account of Whittier during the periods when the town struggled to survive. Especially interesting are the sections that deal with the years when 25% of America’s work force was unemployed. During the 1930’s, thanks to Roosevelt’s Work Progress Administration (WPA) and the Civilian Conservaton Corp (CCC) with camps at Smokemont, (and the community’s reliance home-grown food), Whittier managed well. Evelyn Howell Beck’s memories of those days harken back to a time when survival required community effort. “We helped each other,” she said.

The bright economic promise of Whittier was dashed by a combination of unforeseen events: the “great depression,” the creation of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park (which terminated the thriving, but unregulated timber industry), and the devastating flood of 1940. The photographs of this disaster are especially memorable.

Today, Whittier is a quiet village. The railroad, the land speculators and the medicine shows are gone and this little settlement on the Tuckaseigee now attracts people for a different reason. It is, as Clarke Whittier once described it - a kind of pastoral eden like that perceived by another poet
where “peace comes dropping slow.” In the distance, the local residents can hear the thunder of the Interstate and the hurry and bustle of progress. However, in Whittier, life has adjusted to a slower pace - There, as in Grey’s famous “Elegy,” the natives treasure the “noiseless tenor of their day.”

In view of this little book’s numerous fine points, it is unfortunate that the text is marred by minor flaws. For example, the references to Charleston, the old name of Bryson City, are not clarified. The book’s layout is confusing due to the fact that often, the wonderful photographs and the text are not correlated. Photographs of Colonel Robbins are haphazardly placed and many of Evelyn's recorded memories are repetitious. Baker occasionally inserts personal observations about the “good old days” that are heartfelt and well-written, but they are not always clearly distinguished from Evelyn’s personal recollections. All in all, the book’s value as a tribute to a bygone time and the resilience of mountain people certainly outweigh its technical flaws."

- Gary Cardin

"I enjoyed the stories in this book, and I honestly laughed out loud at some of the humorous quotes from Ms. Beck.  The way the book is written really gives you insight into who she was and the culture of the town she lived in."

- TJ D.

"I loved this book! The price was also affordable for such a large book. I think it was very good for a self published book."

- Deloris B.

" Excellent, inspiring story of mountain mama.  I wanted to read about the life of someone born and raised in these mountainous parts of NC over the past century and that’s exactly what I’ve experienced from this book."

- P. G.